An Ill Effect
by Myk
Summary: A seemingly minor incident leaves Harry trapped somewhere he doesn't understand. Stranded in a war ridden era, Harry must learn to cope. SS/RL, HP/??, HG/GW, RW/NL
1. Prologue: School Starts Again

Disclaimer: Nope, I don't own this. No sir. My name is definitely not JK Rowling; no matter how much I may wish it is. Hehe. Um...suing me will get you nothing. I own nothing, so there. OH!! I have a car! But...uh...it's got an oil leak, a hole in the windshield, a whole in the thingamabob that holds the windshield wiper flood (meaning I can never clean my windshields), and bird doo-doo all over it. Hehe. Don't think you want it. Not unless you like cars that are constantly breaking down right after you pay an arm and a leg to get it fixed. So, yeah. Remember, I really don't own this. No way; no how. 

Prologue: School Starts Again 

Drumming his fork against his plate, Ron once again voiced his thoughts on how the sorting should be done with only the first years after the feast; thus allowing everyone else the precious time they needed to consume mass quantities of various food items. Again, Harry had to listen as Hermione sighed in annoyance, stating the ever obvious fact that the sorting was an essential part of the Hogwarts tradition, to which Ron rolled his eyes, favoring to once again ignore her comments and continue his pitiful whining. Smirking at their antics, Harry continued to dutifully listen to the sorting ceremony ignoring his own hunger pangs in favor of actually enjoying the commencements. 

Looking around his House table as the sorting continued, Harry noticed how everyone seemed to change. All the boys seemed to have shot up from their young prepubescent heights and now had the looks of strapping young men of a healthy stature. The girls had grown as well from their awkward undeveloped stage into attractive female bodies. Blushing in embarrassment at his own five foot frame, Harry wondered when he would grow. Everyone was taller than him, some by a good foot. 

Ron had shot up to a whopping six foot, building muscles over his entire frame during the rigorous and all time consuming practice for the quidditch team, of which he was adamant he would join this year. His hair had grown out to just brush the length of his jaw, tracing delicately down his strong features; his freckles were few and far in between. The ones he did have only added to his looks. His brown eyes sparkled in mischief and amusement, with an air of confidence surrounding him. These noticeable differences drew attention from both the male and female population. 

The ever present book was still with Hermione, but it seemed to be quite toned down. Yes, the book was still quite thick, but she didn't have her nose stuck in it, giving a rather nice few of her beautiful face. Her eyes lit up as she talked with Parvarti and Lavender, something she normally wouldn't do. Chuckling at something one of the gossip queens said, Harry noticed that she had a radiant smile that seemed to light the room. Her hair had grown to about elbow length, becoming soft in texture and more manageable as it was weighed down. Standing at a rather impressive five foot ten, she had a rather lovely body. There were curves in all the right places. 

Sighing again, Harry wondered if this is what normally fifteen year olds were suppose to look like, or were the fates just conspiring against him? He wished that he had grew over the summer, knowing that his stature would get him razzed all year round by people like the good natured, joker of Gryffindor, Seamus Finnigan, and the snobbish, 'better-than-thou-art' Slytherin, Draco Malfoy. Oh sure, others were bound to join in, but these two would be the worst. The only other person that Harry worried about was Professor Severus Snape. Ever since he had met the man, he had seemed to have it in for him. Come on now, Harry understood grudges, but why hold one against a fifteen year old boy because of something the father he never knew did? This was something that Harry would never understand about the man. He went around, swooping like a bat out of Hell, making his life as difficult as possible, trying to get him expelled at every turn, just to save his life multiple times. Harry had never even thanked the man. Now, it's not that he didn't want to. No. It's just that he didn't know how. No matter how many times he tried to do just that, he'd freeze, something else would come up, or his Gryffindor courage would up and run out on him. The man just made him feel so inadequate. 

Jumping in alarm when the food appeared, Harry had blushed yet again. Giving a nervous chuckle and grin to those looking at him, he dug in, no way nearing the fervor that Ron was admitting. Watching in wide eyes fascination at the mass and bulk of food the red head ate, Harry wondered where it all went. It was truly an amazing sight; one that he had never seen anyone else be able to pull off. Sure, the other Weasley males could pack it in, but nothing like Ron. Harry sometimes wondered if he had more than one stomach. Shaking his head, Harry dug into his meager helpings, ignoring Hermione's cursory glances and warning stares. Noticing the girls quickly rising agitation, Harry excused himself to the bathroom faking an upset stomach. He didn't want to deal with the girl's questions; they were annoying. She shouldn't be prying into his life anyway. It wasn't really that big a deal. So what, he didn't have a big appetite. It would grow as the year went along; that's how it always was. Why did she have to make this year any different than the others? Sure, the Dursleys didn't come close enough to feeding him the quantity of food he needed, nor did they give him a proper place to stay, or fitting close, but he could deal. Cringing at those thoughts, Harry vowed that he would never tell Hermione or Ron that he had been moved back into the cupboard under the stairs. They were liable to blow the school up in their anger, murder the Dursleys, and end up in Azkaban, and he wasn't worth the trouble. 

Splashing some cold water on his face, Harry looked up into his reflection, dully noting the dark circles under his eyes and his unhealthy parlor. The severe lack of sunlight had really done a number to Harry's once healthy tan, leaving him pale and sickly looking. His white skin could rival Snape's in color. He couldn't believe that the Dursleys hadn't let him out of his cupboard the entire summer, preferring to do all the chores themselves than to let a 'murderer' do them. He couldn't understand how they thought he could have killed anybody. It wasn't his fault that Cedric died. It was an unfortunate accident due to uncontrollable circumstances; nothing more. He also didn't understand why no matter how many times he told people that he was all right, that he knew it wasn't his fault, no one seemed to believe him. They would all get this pitying look in their eyes and talk in simpering voices as though he were a demented child who was crying out for his long dead parents. __

__

_Come on Harry! Keep it together! You can't loose your cool on the first day of school. Sure, you had absolutely no contact from your 'friends' over the summer. So what your only family completely ignored your existence all summer long, leaving you to your cold, distant thoughts. Why should that bother you? You're use to being alone. Buck up. Pull it together! _Firmly getting his resolve together, Harry smile ruefully at his own reflection, sticking his tongue out as though he were a child who had just conquered an obstacle. 

Looking down at his watch, Harry quickly made his way back into the Great Hall; it was time to lead the first years to the dorms. "First years! Follow me please! Keep up." He could already hear Hermione leading them away. Grabbing his prefects pin from his pocket, Harry quickly and sloppily pinned it in place on his robes, jogging to catch up with the group, apologizing as he bumped his way to the front of the line to stand with Hermione. "That was sweet of you, Harry. But, I don't need your help. Honestly." 

Cocking his head to the side in wonderment, Harry said, "What in the world do you mean?" He honestly had no clue what she was getting at. 

"What I mean is that since I'm a Gryffindor prefect, and evidently the only one of this year, I don't need you to follow me. I'm quite capable of handling this on my own." Not even bothering to look at the bewildered boy, she said in a mothering quality, "Why don't you go and find Ron? I'm sure he'd love to keep you company; you could catch up on what happened over the summer."  
  
"Um...Hermione?" Seeing that the girl wasn't going to look at him or respond to him, Harry wondered why she thought another prefect hadn't been selected for their year. Pushing these thoughts away, he concentrated at keeping up with the swiftly moving girl. "You need to know something. Another fifth year Gryffindor was chose to be a prefect with you."  
  
"Oh? I didn't know that. Who do you suppose it is?" Continuing her brisk pace, Hermione didn't even seem to care. It seemed that she would prefer to leave the other prefect out of all their duties. 

Fuming at her rudeness of the situation, Harry glowered at her. "You don't honestly sound like you care."  
  
"Well why should I? I mean, if the person actually took the job seriously, then shouldn't they be the one here with me leading the first years, not you?" Looking pointedly at Harry, Hermione still didn't notice the boy's badge pinned to his robe. 

Rolling his eyes in exasperation, Harry said, "Hermione, the other prefect is with you leading the first years!"  
  
"Oh really? Where is this so called prefect then if you're so smart?! Huh?! 'Cause I sure don't see one!" Hermione demanded hotly. 

"I'm the other Gryffindor fifth year prefect!" Harry yelled as they came up on the portrait of the fat lady. "VOLDEMORT!" Yelling this word, Harry then calmed himself enough to speak to the frightened first years, who had been frightened by Harry and Hermione yelling, and by the last word Harry had said. Looking at the open portrait, Harry said, "Voldemort is this years password. Fear of a name only increases fear of the thing itself. Get used to saying it, because it can only be changed by me, and now I won't tell anyone, not even the professors, how I managed that." Glaring coldly at Hermione, Harry said, "Well, Miss Perfect Prefect, I think you can take over from here, since I'm obviously not needed." Stalking away, Hermione watched Harry's retreating backside, her mouth hanging open in utter shock at what had just occurred. 

This is how Ron found her when he entered, along with all the new first years waiting for her to tell them where their rooms were. "Um...Hermione? You there?" Waving his hands in front of the stunned girls face, Ron shrugged, leading the first years to the stairs and telling them where to go. After unsuccessfully trying to get Hermione's attention a few more times, Ron shrugged again, leaving his friend down in the common room alone, standing in utter shock. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Harry woke the next morning, deciding to forgo waking his red headed companion, and to not wait for either Ron or Hermione to attend breakfast with him. He really wasn't in the mood to be lectured at, gaped at, and yelled at by his 'friends'. Besides, why should he? It's not as though they actually cared enough to actually write to him. Sure he'd received letters; quite a few actually. The only problem with them was that if they weren't rather distant, they were filled with complaints about either Ron being a prat or Hermione and her 'boy toy'. They never even asked Harry how he was, instead sending distant notes wishing him a good summer, and for him to know that what happened to Cedric wasn't his fault. Didn't they have anything they wanted to talk to him about? He didn't want to play mediator between the two stricken love birds when they didn't even realize they liked one another. 

Sighing at himself for his over dramatically views, Harry sat down at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall. Looking around his table, he dully noted that he was the only Gryffindor that was already up and about. Taking in the surrounding House tables, Harry inwardly cringed when he met the icy stare of Cho Chang, Cedric Diggory's girlfriend and seeker for the Ravenclaw Quidditch team. He really wished she would understand that he couldn't stop what happened, but she just seemed to blame him. He had even received howlers and hate mail from her, most of the Hufflepuff House, and some other witches and wizards throughout the wizarding world. It seemed that more people actually believed the crap that Rita Skeeter wrote than he originally thought. He still couldn't get over how dense some people could be. 

Quietly eating his meal, Harry couldn't help but feel the hackles on the back of his neck rise, alerting him to someone starring at him. Cautiously looking around the Great Hall for the perpetrator, Harry was shocked to see obsidian eyes boring into his own emerald orbs with a calculating look in their depths. Giving a slightly nervous grin to the man, he turned back to his meal. _Oh great. The first actual day back for class, and the man already thinks I'm up to something. Plus the fact that I blew up at Hermione. This year is already shaping up to be rather bad. _

Ignoring the entering students, Harry paid no head to Ron, Hermione, Seamus, or Dean as they tried unsuccessfully to get his attention. Finally giving up, they started their breakfast, deciding that talking with Harry could wait until after classes. Of course, they didn't know how wrong they were, and they definitely regretted later not taking the chance when they had it. 

Hearing the doors to the Great Hall bang in, people gapped at Neville Longbottom as he stumbled in, carrying some sort of vile in his hands. Watching the boy with ill conceived worry, the collective student body sighed as the overly clumsy boy made it to his seat without any conundrums. Taking his eyes from the boy, the students went back to what they were doing before hand. 

"Um...Nev, what is that?" Seamus inquired, eyeing the vile as though it would jump up and attack him. 

"OH! I-it's for Harry. My gran made it." Looking at the boy with pleading eyes, Neville silently begged for him to accept the gift, conveying how heart broken his grandmother would be with only a look. "It's to protect him from evil." 

Looking at the vile, Harry audibly gulped, but didn't want to cause any harm to Neville's family. He felt bad for the chunky, Gryffindor boy. Gathering his courage, he swallowed, before shakily reaching out, taking the vile from Neville. "Thank you, Neville. Will you please tell your grandmother how kind it was of her to think of me? And that I really appreciate this?" 

"O-of course, H-harry." Sending a beaming smile at Harry, Neville relaxed as he realized his Gran's gift wasn't going to get turned down by 'The-Boy-Who-Lived'. 

"Well, bottoms up." With that said, Harry tipped the contents of the vile into his mouth, making a face of disgust at the taste. Dropping the vile, Harry doubled over in pain before falling to the floor, hollering out. He rolled around a few times before lying still, making people wonder if he was still alive. As they cautiously approached the motionless figure, they gave a start as he lurched into a sitting position, screamed once, and promptly vanished in a cloud of smoke, leaving nothing of himself behind. 

"Oh dear. I'm in trouble now," Neville said, punctually passing out afterwards. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Sitting up, Harry rubbed his aching head, wondering what had hit him, and if he could sue. Noticing bright blasts of light around him, along with a quite a bit of yelling, Harry took in his surroundings, shocked to notice the amount of fighting going on. He still appeared to be in Hogwarts' Great Hall, but everything seemed rather different. He didn't recognize the few students that were in the room, along with the professors. There were quite a few Aurors and Death Eaters, all shouting curses and hexes. Nobody seemed above using 'The Unforgivables', which Harry didn't understand. He thought using them was a one way ticket to a cell in Azkaban. Rolling out of the way of a curse, Harry got to his feet, drawing attention to himself. As everyone looked at him, the fighting seemed to stop, everyone starring at him as though he were a mad man who had proclaimed his undying love for Voldemort, with all the intent of marrying the man and having his children. 

TBC 

Um...I don't know where that just came from. I have no idea what so ever. I sat down to write a chapter to another one of my stories, and boom, there it was. Oh well. If any of you read 'Changing Ideals', you'll find it else where now. It was booted off this site. Er...if you want to find it, go to my author profile, there's a link to it. Enjoy. 

Uh...review. Please. Tell me what you think. I'm not really sure if this is worth continuing, even though I think I will, just to see where I'm going. My hands seem to have a life of their own. Sorry! But hey, I'm rather attached to this story already. Hehe. Hopefully it gets a few people's seals of approval. Anywho, review. 


	2. New Times

Disclaimer: No. No, I am not JK Rowling. Do you know what that means? Ah! You're so smart! You're right! I don't own Harry Potter or anything even slightly related to it. Poor me. I only own the plot...um...I think. Just, don't sue. That's all I ask. 

Chapter 1: New Times 

Looking around at everyone surrounding him, Harry noticed the odd robes they were in. The student robes looked nothing like his own, and what he thought were the Order robes were also very different. Gulping, Harry nervously stood, overly conscious of all the eyes trained on his person. Slightly smirking, he waved his hand, saying, "Um... hi? Can anyone tell me where I am?" 

"What the...!?" 

"Who is this kid?!"  
  
Many different voices rang throughout the hall, all wondering who the mysterious boy was, and how he had appeared out of the middle of nowhere during a fierce battle. Blinking when he noticed that ever wand in the entire room was trained on him, Harry's eyes widened before narrowing in determination. "Don't point those at me." Talking in a rather cold voice, Harry drew his own wand, holly and phoenix feather, eleven inches. This action drew gasps of amazement and bewilderment from the crowd. 

"Where did he get that wand? Where did he find it?" One of the unknown Aurors yelled out, pointing to the wand clutched firmly in Harry's hand. 

"Where did you get that, boy? Answer truthfully where you stole it from, and you just might live," a Death Eater said, a curse on the tip of his tongue. 

Baring his teeth at the incompetent people, Harry snarled out his answer. "This is **my **wand. I stole it from no one! I've always had this wand!" 

"LIAR! THAT'S HARRY POTTER'S WAND!" Another irate Auror yelled. 

"Well, duh!" Harry stated, adding as much cynicism as he could. "I would hope it was Harry Potter's wand, considering that's who I am!" 

Rolling his eyes at the gaping people, he wondered who they thought he was. Sure, he must have passed out after drinking that vile concoction Neville's grandmother sent, but it's not as though he died. Maybe he looked different? Touching his forehead, he felt the ever present scar, which reassured him. _Well, if I have changed, it couldn't be that much. I mean, I still have my scar. __I still need my glasses as well. These people are just trying to trick me, that's all. Probably some elaborate joke being played on me. I bet it is the twin's idea of a joke._

__

__Coming to his own firm conclusions while ignoring more startled murmurs when they saw his scar, Harry stared defiantly at the people around the Hall, daring them to continue with their little facade. He really didn't like pranks being pulled on him. After all, he was the son of a Marauder. He'd just have to get them back later. 

Dusting the dirt and dust from his robes, Harry made his way towards the exit for the Great Hall. He was intent on getting away from these psychos as fast as he could. Spending more time with them then was necessary might cause some serious mental damage for himself, and he wasn't one to have the urge to be admitted to St. Mungo's in the near future. He liked his sanity right where it was, intact, thank you very much. Dodging as a curse was sent his way, Harry snarled and whipped back towards the people in the Hall. 

"What in the name of Merlin was that for?! I am simply trying to leave to ascertain as to where I am currently located, as this certainly is not the prestigious school I left!" Snarling in a rather feral way, Harry pointed his wand at the nearest Death Eater, hoping that maybe the man would give him a reason to curse him into oblivion. He really wasn't in the mood for this. He just wanted to find out what the hell was going on, and then get back to where he was supposed to be. Surely his friends would be missing him by now, and the Headmaster was bound to discover his whereabouts rather soon. Of course, he didn't want to hang around here to discover if he was right or not. 

Sneering with disgust, the Death Eater, with his wand trained on harry, spoke, "I'm afraid, boy, that we can't allow you the pleasure of leaving our company. No, you see, we want to truly ascertain who you are." Throwing a few of the boy's own words back at him, the unknown Death Eater approached Harry threateningly, stopping just short of touching distance. 

Glowering, Harry practically spat at the man. "I told you who I am! Maybe you should introduce yourself." Glaring and staring balefully into steel gray eyes, recognition dawned on Harry's face before he planted a smirk on his lips. "Ah, wait, no introduction is necessary. I know who you are. I don't know how it is possible, but I've glared into those eyes enough times to know who they belong to, Draco Malfoy." 

"My, my, seems you are who you claim to be." Removing his mask, Draco smirked at his past nemesis. "You disappeared over thirty years ago. We were all certain that Longbottom's potion had incinerated you, leaving not even residue. Of course, Snape always said that was impossible. That there wasn't a potion around that was capable of that." 

Whipping around, Draco addressed the others in the room, "This is Harry Potter." Glaring at those that were about to argue with him, he brandished his wand. "Don't argue with me. I know my enemies, and this is one of them. I may not have seen him in thirty years, and he may still be only fifteen, but this is him. Hell, Longbottom has always been able to do the impossible with potions." 

Inclining his head in a quick greeting to the raven haired boy, Draco smirked as his greeting was returned. "No hard feelings, Potter, this isn't about you. This is about what is expected of me. Aveda Kedavra!" 

Dodging out of the way of the green light, Harry brandished his own wand, defending himself. "Impedimenta! Serpensortia!" Shaking his head at his choice of defense, Harry instructed the large snake to bind the blonde man before turning towards the others in the room. "I am truly not in the mood for this. I suggest someone tell me what is going on! How is Draco Malfoy, who was a fifth year Slytherin last I checked, an adult now? For that matter, a Death Eater?!" 

A black clad figure came out from amongst the crowd, blocking Harry from view. "I'm afraid, Mr. Potter, that this is not the time to deal with egotistical celebrities that think too highly of themselves. You will simply have to wait to receive the answers you demand." 

Scowling up at the black clad figure, Harry snarled. "I think now is the perfect time, Professor Snape. And I'm not egotistical. I didn't ask for the fame or recognition."  
  
Sighing, Snape turned towards the irate boy. "Now is really not the time. First allow us to defeat the threat, and then we will deal with you." 

Ignoring the boy, Severus turned back towards the bound Death Eater only to find him free and standing back with his comrades. 

"My, we will mark this day in our calendars. The day Harry Potter came back. I must say that you chose the wrong time to come back; we're winning." With his piece said, Draco and the rest of the Death Eaters disapparated, allowing Headmaster Dumbledore to recast the wards they had breached. 

"Mr. Potter, my boy, I think that we have questions and you have questions. Do follow me to my office, please." Setting off from the Great Hall, Albus Dumbledore gestured to certain adults to follow them, people that he felt needed to be there for the discussion. 

Taking in the dilapidated halls, vacated paintings and fearful gazes that followed them throughout the school, Harry worried his lower lip wondering what was going on. Things were different. People were older, changed from what he remembered. Surely a simply protection potion couldn't have done this to him. He needed answers. 

"Freedom for the brave." Waiting as the gargoyle moved, Dumbledore and his troop stepped onto the spiraling staircase before entering his office. Even that room had changed. The pictures and knickknacks had been removed and replaced with what appeared to me multiple different types of foe glasses, penseives and other useful objects. Fawkes' perch stood empty in a corner. There was none of that warmth that used to radiate from the room. But then again, none of that warmth was present in the man that owned the room either. 

"I'm afraid, Mr. Potter, that we have no choice but to question you under the use of Veritaserum. Severus?" Turning tired blue eyes on the dark man, he waited for him to comply. 

Green eyes widening in horror, Harry shot up out of his seat. "WHAT?! NO! THAT IS AN INVASION OF MY PRIVACY!" Incensed, Harry started pacing around the small office, ignoring the weary and distrustful eyes upon him. 

"I'm afraid that we really must insist. We have to discover if you are telling the truth. And this is really the only way. You aren't the first person to show up claiming to be Harry Potter," a smart looking witch with brown hair and warm chocolate eyes said. 

Looking at the woman, Harry sighed. There was something about that woman that he recognized, and he felt that he would be betraying some sort of trust from her if he didn't not aqueous to their request. 

"Fine! Fine." Sitting back down in the chair he had previously been in, Harry didn't argue with Snape as he commanded him to open his mouth. Nor did he attempt to not allow the three drops of potion to be applied to his tongue. 

"I thank you. Now, first question, what is your name and age?" 

"My name is Harry Potter, and I turned fifteen on July 31st." 

Watching the vacant expression on the young boy's face and listening to his monotone answer, Dumbledore nodded his head, confident that the potion was working, and that the boy was who he claimed to be. "What is the last thing you remember happening before you showed up in the Great Hall in the middle of a battle?"  
  
"Neville had just brought a potion to me from his Gran. He said it was supposed to be for protection. I didn't want to bruise his feelings or make him think I didn't trust him or his Gran, so I accepted it. After drinking it I only remember pain, and then I was here." 

"All right, who did you grow up with, Harry?" 

"I was raised by my muggle Aunt Petunia Dursley and her husband, Vernon. Dudley, their son, was also there. Before that, I was with my mother and my father, James and Lily Potter." 

"Last question, Harry, who brought you the sorting hat in your second year, and what did you pull from it?" 

"Fawked brought the sorting hat. From it I was able to draw Godric Gryffindor's sword." 

"Well, I think that answers our question as to who you are. Severus, please administer the serum." Smiling at those in the room, a small spark of his old twinkle reentered his baby blue eyes. He watched as Harry was given the antidote, and as he seemed to come back to his senses. "Welcome back, Harry." Getting up, he embraced the startled teen. "I'm sure you have a lot of questions. Please feel free to ask them now." 

Looking from face to face, Harry became more nervous and started fidgeting in his seat. "D-do you think you could all, I don't know, introduce yourselves?" Looking sheepishly at the others, he gave a small smile. "I only know who two of you are for certain." 

"Oh! How silly of us!" Rising from her seat, the brown haired woman smiled in a friendly fashion before embracing the boy, causing him to flinch and shy away from her. "Er... sorry. I'm Hermione Weasley, but you knew me as Hermione Granger. And no, I'm not married to Ron."  
  
"How'd you know I was going to ask that?" 

Laughing lightly, she shook her head. "It was written all over your face." 

After her friendly greeting, Harry was startled to see a sour faced red-head step up to him. He scowled down at Harry before speaking. "Ron Weasley." He didn't offer his hand for a handshake, nor did he move to embrace him. He acted rather cold and distant, if not upset to see Harry. 

Furrowing his eyes in consternation at such a cold greeting from an old friend, Harry turned towards the next man, taking in his gray hair and warm amber colored eyes. "Remus Lupin," he said with a tired smile before hugging Harry. "You don't know just how good it is to see you again." 

As soon as Remus let go of him, Harry found himself wrapped in another pair of strong arms. His initial reaction was to tense and push away, but he recognized the scent, feel and magical signature of the one embracing him. Melting into the hug, Harry held tightly to his godfather before pulling away. "Sirius."  
  
Smirking, his now almost completely gray godfather ruffled his hair. "Harry." 

"Good, good, cheerful reunions." Before the Headmaster could say more there was a knock on his door. "Enter." 

Every eye in the room turned towards the door, riveted on the figure that entered, waiting to see who it could possibly be that would be interrupting them. The person who entered was not someone Harry recognized, but definitely someone the others knew. A young man, probably around Harry's age, came in. Light brown locks fell in front of impossibly black eyes that surveyed the room with an intelligence few possessed at that age. There was a gentle curve of slightly thin lips, indicating his amusement at having everyone staring at him, and a tilt to his head as he took in those around him. 

"Ah, Ethan, do enter." 

_Who's Ethan? He's kind of cute. _Harry watched as the boy entered, closing the door behind him. 

"I'm sorry to disturb you, Headmaster, but I've come seeking my fathers." Listening to his already deep voice, Harry was slightly startled to hear him say fathers. 

"What is it, Ethan?" Remus asked. 

"Yes, what could possibly be so important that you would interrupt your father and I when we are in a meeting with Headmaster Dumbledore?" Professor Snape also inquired. Harry never got to hear the answer as he fainted dead away. 

TBC 

Eeek! It's been such a long time since I updated this! Oh... wait... I haven't updated! How horrid of me. Well then, here it is. A new chapter. Please be gentle. 

Oh, and a big thanks goes out to Cara, my beta! Thank you! You did a wonderful job. 


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